


fly me to the moon

by albion



Series: mcgenji week 2016 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Lover's spat and then make-up sex, M/M, Post-Recall, this fic is just jesse being an overly dramatic boyfriend, very mild sexual content but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albion/pseuds/albion
Summary: Genji leans in close. For a moment, Jesse thinks he’s coming in for another kiss. And then quietly, the barest murmur in his ear: “Jesse. Love of my life. My partner and soulmate. Let the fuck go.”Day Six: Laughter.





	

They haven’t spoken in days, not since the disastrous mission in Dorado.

It had been routine recon, nothing they hadn’t done before. Genji and Jesse had been the most suited for the job. One an ex-assassin, the other ex-black ops. Masters of stealth. The plan was flawless, the preparations complete. It went swimmingly. That is, it went swimmingly until Jesse decided to do what he always did best: show off.

He blew the operation through an idiotic, careless mistake; the product of his own ego. Jesse McCree’s biggest flaw; the one Gabriel Reyes had spent many years attempting to stamp out of him (he never quite succeeded). Jesse could never resist a chance to show off.

In the end, Genji took seven bullets for him.

They had lodged themselves into his forearms and chassis. Nothing fatal, thankfully, but extremely painful nonetheless. Moments of blistering blind agony, a soft thud as he toppled bonelessly to the ground. Jesse had immediately seen red, emptied his clip, and managed to haul them both to safety. He called in for immediate extraction. Angela had been on the scene as quick and efficient as ever, wings spread wide open as she landed, golden and light. Mercy, on-call.

Genji had been fine, in the end. But he had been _pissed_.

He was still pissed seven hours later when they’d landed back at Gibraltar and Jack had given them both the proper dressing down. Something about the good of the mission, not jeopardizing it for the sake of personal glory. Not being reckless. Mostly directed towards Jesse, but Genji had been admonished too, for jumping in front of the spray.

“Next time,” Morrison said, running a hand over his tired and worn face, “if McCree wants to be stupid and bite metal, _let him_.”

They both knew full well Genji would never follow that advice. Jack would have always jumped in front of the gun for Gabriel, after all.

As a result, Genji and Jesse haven’t spoken to each other in roughly four days. It’s been a rough four days for Jesse McCree. He’d been kicked out of their shared quarters, and nobody else was speaking to him too.

Consequently, he’d spent the last three nights on the couch in the rec room, eating too much of Hana’s ice cream and listening to Billie Holiday on the music player, softly mourning the loss of body heat. And sleepy morning sex. He doubted he’d be getting any of that anytime soon.

He’d apologized; he’d apologized profusely, but Genji had merely stared at him, face entirely unreadable under the mask. “I accept your apology.” Blunt. Knife-sharp. “But I’m still mad at you. Let me be mad at you for a while. I took seven bullets. And it hurt.”

A message, sent later from Jesse’s datapad: _there's no way can’t i make it up to u honeybun? i know im a fuckup._

Genji is quick with his reply. _Yep._

_:^( but who will keep me warm in the night until u forgive me???_

_Winston._

Ouch.

A week of quiet tension, a lover’s spat. At some point, Jesse knows Genji will forgive him. But in the meantime, the space between them is so vast—they might as well be oceans apart. McCree settles down to wait. He’s never been very good at it. But this time, he’ll just have to suck it up.

The transmission however comes in the next evening, urgent and beeping incessantly. Something that _cannot_ wait. Winston and Jack call everybody in and make the decision themselves. There is no time for a council vote. No time for arguments. They have to move.

“It’s Talon,” Jack grimaces, peering at the screen. “They’re up to something in Hanamura. Most likely attempting to make a deal with your brother, I expect.” He turns to Genji.

Everyone turns to stare at Genji. They know now, how Genji had met with Hanzo in their ancestral home, had fought and verbally sparred. But Hanzo had never replied to his quip. Genji had told Jesse once what he had spoken to his brother about. _The world is changing once again, Hanzo. And it’s time to pick a side._

Apparently this Hanzo now had.

“I will go,” Genji sighs, knowing that the conflict is yet again inevitable.

“So will I,” Jack says. “The message mentions a sighting of Reaper. And I want Angela and Reinhardt with us.”

They aim to leave in the morning. In the utter chaos and hubbub that follows; the frantic preparations of battle, Jesse tries to grab a quick moment with Genji. But the ex-assassin is nowhere to be found for hours, busy with prep. Dinner is quick, hasty rations swallowed down. By late evening, Jesse mounts his own personal search, walking around the base incessantly, clambering his way awkwardly atop the rock to see if Genji is meditating there with his teacher. Zenyatta is present, but Genji is not. And the omnic can tell him nothing about Genji’s whereabouts.

By three a.m., Jesse reluctantly decides it’ll have to wait. He settles down for sleep on the couch again, drifting off to an old Rachmaninoff recording that fully represents his mood; grim and dark and heavy. He’s not sure whose collection this is, in fact. Nobody on the base seems to enjoy this type of music, so he’s not sure why it’s there.

At three-thirty exactly, there is a soft thud behind him. McCree is a man who has spent many years on the run and also currently possesses extremely frayed nerves. He wakes up instantly. Then he freezes.

There is an assassin on top of him.

Jesse swears, grasping wildly around for Peacekeeper. The assassin moves sharp as a whip crack, cold hand darting out to grip his wrists tightly, holding him in place. There are two powerful thighs either side of Jesse’s legs, locking him in place.

McCree stares up at the faceless killer. His eyes haven’t quite gotten used to the darkness yet, and he’s still fuzzy with sleep. The assassin laughs, a rich deep sound that peals through the air.

Jesse relaxes. It’s Genji.

“Genji,” he hisses, because now he feels extremely foolish and both he _and_ Genji know it, “what the fuck?”

His boyfriend laughs again, shifting his hips easily. The friction rubs right up against McCree’s flaccid length, separated only by the thin fabric of the sweatpants he sleeps in. When his eyes adjust again to the darkness, Jesse realises Genji is grinning. His eyes—clear grey and devastatingly wicked—are bright, pupils blown with undisguised arousal.

Ah. That was the plan then.

Jesse grins and shifts, grinding his hips up against Genji. The contact pulls a low moan out of him, overly loud in the quiet stillness of the rec room. And then Jesse remembers. They’re not in their bedroom, door locked and curtains drawn. It’s dark and the middle of the night, but somebody could still find them here like this. The thought sends a hot tendril of arousal curling through Jesse’s body. He knows Genji did this on purpose. Genji _always_ enjoys things like this.

And apparently this is their make-up session. Jesse grinds his hips again, aware that Genji’s hands are still locked tight around his wrists and his thighs are solid and firm. In this encounter, Genji’s calling the shots.

The assassin smiles down at him, lips parted and teeth showing in the dim light. He mouths three words at Jesse.

“You too darling,” Jesse whispers back.

Neither of them will be getting any sleep that night. But Genji is the one with a mission in the morning, and Genji is also the one with cybernetics and enhanced stamina.

They have time. They have plenty of time to make up for the days apart.

 

* * *

 

Jesse didn’t have to. They had already said their goodbyes. They said them last night and in the very early morning, between shuddering gasps and the slickness of sweat. He blushes at the memory. Jesse had been very eager to prove to his boyfriend just how remorseful he was—Genji, as ever, had been very eager to _take_.

The dawn is breaking, candy streaks of pink and orange slashing through the sky. There’s a light morning wind across the across, whipping up the sea and sending fresh salt into Jesse’s nostrils. The gulls overhead are giving the four of them a send-off salute.

Jesse and Genji had said their goodbyes already, but as he watched the four of them enter the plane, he remembered something Reyes had told him once, what seemed like a million and a half years ago.

_Once something is yours, take it and hold onto it. Don’t ever let it go._

So instead of turning away from the window in Winston’s lab, he ran out onto the landing strip and gave them another goodbye. And then another, more _personal_ goodbye to Genji. Consequently, this is currently the reason Jesse is gripping one of the aircraft door handles tightly, effectively preventing it from taking off. It’s a scene from a terrible romantic comedy; one partner refusing to let go and the other who has no choice but to leave. He realises with a jolt that Morrison, sitting in the pilot’s seat, is giving him a death glare. Genji is laughing. Jesse stares down at his hand. He’s still holding the door handle.

He looks up again. “I love him,” he tells Morrison dumbly, over Genji’s shoulder, because he has nothing else he can possibly offer.

Genji leans in close. For a moment, Jesse thinks he’s coming in for another kiss. And then quietly, the barest murmur in his ear: “Jesse. Love of my life. My partner and soulmate. Let the fuck go.”

His words are accompanied by a firm press of one outstretched leg and foot, pushing him away from the door and the turbines. Jesse grins, stumbles back and nearly falls onto his ass. Catching himself instead, he blows Genji a dramatic kiss, a war-time sweetheart bidding farewell to her dashing soldier boy. Now he’s just doing it for the scandalized look on Jack’s face.

They’re all getting older, more weary and grim and weathered. He can be dramatic with his boyfriend once in a while. He’s _allowed_ to be dramatic.

Genji laughs hysterically, makes a quick swiping motion with his fist as if to say _I’ve caught it_. Then he firmly closes the door in Jesse’s face.

Jesse sits on the concrete of the landing strip and watches as the aircraft finally takes off, disappearing higher and higher into the sky, eventually vanishing behind a fluffy white cloud. The gulls shriek one last time. He smiles. And then starts laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> this is so short and so ridiculous and i'm sorry everyone i needed jesse dramatically hanging off a door handle because he hadn't told genji quite enough times that he loves him.
> 
> i'm running out of steam and this is mostly an experiment pls forgive the mess i am determined to do something for each day but you can physically _see_ the quality deteriorating and i Laugh
> 
> also the rachmaninoff collection was gabriel's.


End file.
